October 21, 2013

Michael Rupured: After Christmas Eve & The Naming Game

Thanks,
Chris, for having me back to talk about After Christmas Eve, my new
release from MLR Press. Can you believe a year has passed since my
last visit? Time flies!

To celebrate
the release by MLR Press of my second novel, I’m giving away 10
copies (ebooks) through an 11-stop blog hop. To enter, comment before
midnight, October 25, 2013 on any of my posts on the eleven
participating blogs. Be sure to include an email address.

The
first critique of an early draft of Until
Thanksgiving, my debut novel, was
that the names of the characters seemed random, like they'd been
pulled from a hat. The comment surprised me. You mean there's another
way?

My
only rule had been to avoid picking names starting with the same
letter. My writers group pointed out all the biblical names in Until
Thanksgiving—Joshua, Adam and
Caleb, Michael, Philip and James, and Mary, mother of Thaddeus. I had
no idea.

Everything
about writing After Christmas
Evewas
more deliberate. I wrote backstories for all the major characters,
including a few identified only as police sergeant, private
investigator, or first victim until I knew enough to give them names.

Telling
James's story did lead me to add another rule. No more names ending
with the letter S. The possessive is just too ugly.

Lifelong
friends inspired some names. A dear friend inspired Terrence’s name
and his love of photography. Inspiration for another name or two in
the story will forever remain a private joke.

Real
people have cameo roles in After
Christmas Eve. Mary Day never
appears, but she was a prominent ballet instructor in DC around the
time my story takes place. Fess Parker, Ed Ames, Ron Ely, and Robert
Conrad get mentions, along with Diana Ross, Roberta Flack, and the
Beatles. Frank Kameny was a hero of the early gay rights movement
nationally and especially in DC.

The right name is
a beautiful thing. Parents know this. That's why they spend so much
time thinking about it. But as a writer, I have a big advantage. I
know how my children turn out in the end.

Here’s
the blurb:

As Philip Potter wraps up his last
minute shopping on Christmas Eve, 1966, James Walker, his lover of
six years, takes his life. Unaware of what waits for him at home,
Philip drops off gifts to the homeless shelter, an act of generosity
that later makes him a suspect in the murder of a male prostitute.

Two men drive yellow Continentals. One
is a killer, with the blood of at least six hustlers on his hands.
Both men have secrets. And as Philip is about to discover, James had
kept secrets, too. But James wasn’t trying to frame him for murder…

*This is the seventh of eleven stops on
the After Christmas Eve Blog Hop. Excerpts appear in serial
form along the hop, beginning with my post at
http://www.shiraanthony.com/?p=3217.

Excerpt
#7 of 11

Yes, he did have Philip. In some ways, that was the problem. Six
years with Philip hadn’t erased sixteen years of damage, but his
love and support had helped James to grow a thick, protective scar
over his broken psyche. Without the unconditional love that Philip
showered upon him though, his father’s words might not have hurt
him quite so much.

Roland Walker didn’t understand the situation and had called Philip
a perverted child molester. He couldn’t have been more wrong. His
relationship with Philip at first was more like he imagined a loving
father would have with his son. Ever the gentleman, Philip hadn’t
so much as kissed James’s cheek until his eighteenth
birthday—almost two years after they met—no matter how much James
had pleaded or even thrown himself at him. Philip had insisted they
get to know each other first, declaring that a good friend was harder
to find than a lover.

Philip was the closest friend James ever had and the best thing that
had ever happened to him. The years they’d been together were the
finest of his life. James couldn’t imagine where he’d be without
Philip. And Uncle George. Guilt washed over him. So many lies.

Where would he go? He could never ask Philip to leave DC. Working at
the Smithsonian was his dream, and his future there looked bright.
Leaving Philip would be easier than asking him to give up his dreams.
Living without the one man who’d ever really loved him would be
worse than death.

His father was right. James was a constant source of humiliation as
much for Philip as for his family. Philip was too good for him. He
deserved better. All James did was drag Philip down with his lies and
silly dreams.

Too many lies and too many secrets. Guilt settled over him like a
pall. Philip’s life was an open book—everything out in plain
sight with nothing to hide. He’d never been anything but good to
James which made lying to him that much worse.

By the time James reached the apartment, his mind was made up. He
went straight to his desk and retrieved a pen and notepaper. He wrote
two words, folded the page in half, leaving it on the desk where he
knew Philip would see it.

You are right about knowing how you characters turn out before naming them. I think I should have given my youngest a more erudite name as she is a rather stuffy history professor with a somewhat playful name. Ah well, live and learn. Her son will probably be flighty with his stuffy name "snicker".